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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045464">I Know Where it All Went Wrong</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayshea/pseuds/kayshea'>kayshea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Taylor Swift (Musician)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, F/F</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 09:20:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,559</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045464</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayshea/pseuds/kayshea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There was only so much of Karlie that Taylor could take, directly, before she absolutely lost her mind.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Karlie Kloss/Taylor Swift</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was easier to avoid her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She would have denied it of course and could have come up with a million excuses, but that’s what they would’ve been— excuses or justifications or just fucking lies. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because she stopped going to the library after school and missed Joe’s basketball game and signed up for voluntary SAT study sessions at lunch. She started walking to school instead of taking the bus and logged off of her Instagram account and faked a migraine to get out of a student council meeting. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was easier. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because in her head, Taylor couldn’t stop thinking about Karlie and New Year’s Eve and the way their lips had almost touched. She hates how clearly she can remember it, the flutterings in her chest and and the feel of Karlie’s warm body next to her in the cold midnight air. The air was thick with smoke from the fireworks, but Taylor was close enough to be able to smell her perfume anyway— almond and sandalwood— and it had made her head spin.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she woke up bleary-eyed the next morning, still wearing her dress from the night before, it had taken her a minute to remember why she had a sick, anxious knot in the pit of her stomach, but she hadn’t forgotten since. She had immediately reached for her phone and didn’t know what to feel when she saw that Karlie hadn’t messaged her. For a second, for a minute, her thumb had hovered over Karlie’s name as Taylor thought about typing out a message. Anything would have done— <em>hey</em> or <em>hope you got home safe</em> or something about how drunk Josh had been or, if she had been daring, she could’ve said the truth. <em>All I want is you</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instead, she turned off her screen, buried her phone in her covers, and went to wash the eyeliner off her face. When Karlie didn’t message all day, well… it was better for Taylor to stop waiting for it. To stop hoping.<br/>
<br/>
And there was only so much of Karlie that Taylor could take, directly, before she absolutely lost her mind. It was bad enough to see her selfies online, where she looked radiant and happy and fucking perfect in every picture. Later, Taylor opened Instagram to find a photo of Karlie beaming with a tray of unbaked cookies, the caption <em>start the year as you mean to go on…. cookies for breakfast</em>, and Taylor’s heart just broke. She remembered when those sea green eyes were looking at her, when Karlie’s dimples were for a joke <em>she</em> had made, and before she could stop herself, she logged off without even posting “#digitaldetox” on her stories.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Basically, she had never been so grateful for winter break. She had never been so grateful for the prospect of time alone, a few days to get herself together and remember that she was in love with Joe and that Karlie was in love with Josh and that anything contrary to that was obviously only in her fucking head. When they all went back to school on Monday, it had to be easier.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">******</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It had almost worked, too. If she could just not talk to Karlie, not look at her, maybe she would be able to kill the part of her that wanted more and go back to when she was happy with just enough.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She knows that isn’t a long term strategy— Joe is already getting suspicious— but if she could only have time then surely, <em>surely</em>, she could find a way back to when Karlie was still just the new girl next-door and Taylor hadn’t found herself head over heels.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But then, one Thursday, Ms. Stewart catches her as she’s leaving homeroom. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Taylor, do you think you and Karlie could have the plan for Winter Formal ready for the faculty to review next week?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It takes Taylor a second to realise what she was talking about, and then it hits her all in one, horrified swoop. <em>Winter Formal</em>. She and Karlie had volunteered to organise it months ago, back when the prospect seemed appealing. The Juniors always planned it for the Seniors, and as the class’ social council representative, Taylor had been so excited to be in charge. Now, it was last thing she wants. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She mutters some vague assurances to Ms. Stewart and flees out into the hallway, hiding her face in her locker as soon as she can. With several long, deep breathes, she tries to reason with herself. She can do this. She’s fine. All she has to do is talk to Karlie. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And all she has to do is pretend that it hadn’t been real.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">******</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She could let herself go home and obsess about being near Karlie again, overanalyze what to say after two weeks of silence, but Taylor knew the only way she was going to get through this was fast, like pulling off a bandaid. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was only Karlie after all, and some part of Taylor knew that this day was always coming, even as she conspired to put it off. If nothing else, they were neighbors and it was getting tiring trying to sneak in and out of her house at unusual hours. There was only so long she could keep coming up with early morning study sessions and after school meetings. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But, as soon as Taylor was looking for her, Karlie, of course, was no where to be found. Taylor took to hanging out by the lockers between classes and deliberately got to lunch early so that she could be sure not to miss her coming in. But after twenty minutes of hovering fruitlessly by the door, Taylor reluctantly heads back to her old table and to Joe and Abigail who beam to see her at lunch again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If Taylor wasn’t the only one relying on avoidance…. well, that wasn’t something she could think about.<em>You’re with Joe. She’s with Josh.</em> she reminds herself firmly, whenever her traitorous brain goes off track. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After school, when Taylor couldn’t think of anywhere else to look, she heads out to the football fields behind the school. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She knows that it would have been easier to just ask. After all, for all Taylor knew, Karlie was home sick and her attempts were doomed from the start. If she just asked Josh or Gigi, the whole thing could’ve been over with by now. Or, hell— and she feels so stupid about this— she could’ve just <em>messaged</em> her, like a normal person. She doesn’t know what she could possibly say that could follow on from the two-week gap in their chat, though. She pulls out her phone anyways, thinking that she might try but stops as soon as she sees the last message, sent from Karlie. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>can’t wait for tonite!!! you will look bomb in your silver dress xxx</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just reading it makes Taylor’s heart clench up, brings her back to that dark porch and the distant shouts and the smell of smoke. The memory is still just lurking there, under the surface, waiting to be invited in: Karlie pressed up against her side and her head landing heavily on Taylor’s shoulder. Taylor had stopped fidgeting with her short, sequinned hem and found that her mouth was suddenly very wet. She immediately thought, unbidden, of how easy it would’ve been to kiss Karlie then, to just barely shift and bring their lips together. When she looked down, Karlie was looking right at her, eyes dark. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So yeah, it’s impossible, now, to message anything at all. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And anyways, she’s determined that whatever she <em>does</em> do, she can’t let on that anything had been wrong. It would be accepting that something had… shifted between the two of them, inviting more questions. They were Taylor and Karlie, immediate best friends, inseparable, and that was that. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On her way out to the fields, Taylor had almost convinced herself that she was right. Almost. Because yeah, it was a long shot to hope to find Karlie sitting in the bleachers <em>in January</em>. Obviously Karlie would’ve forgotten what she had said to Taylor back in August or Taylor had been reading too much into it or whatever. And yeah, Karlie obviously could have just gone home or been out sick or left early for a doctor’s appointment. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Taylor has to check. She still knew her best friend, after all. Things hadn’t gotten so fucked. Taylor still <em>knew</em> Karlie. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she steps through to the stands and sees Karlie, and knows that she was right, her immediate thought is of vindication, the searing satisfaction of being right.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then, she feels her breath leave her throat, and she stands for a moment as satisfaction gives way to these traitorous flutterings in her heart.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Taylor, you need to calm the fuck down</em> she tells herself sternly, and she coughs once, loudly, before she can run away. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The noise was eaten by the vast, empty fields, would’ve been a mere whisper by the time it reached Karlie, but she hears anyway and looks immediately towards Taylor. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Taylor couldn’t hide anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In spite of everything, in spite of even the fear still fluttering around her chest, she smiles. She hadn’t gone so long without seeing Karlie since they had met and, she realises with a suddenness that surprises her, she had missed her friend.<br/>
<br/>
“Hey!” Taylor calls, desperate to keep her voice sounding normal, “I thought I might find you out here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Karlie was only sitting a few rows away, but it still felt, somehow, like it takes Taylor too long to reach her. </span><br/>
<br/>
When she does, when they were face to face, Karlie smiles back and Taylor’s heart leaps. “Hey yourself.”</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s been ages since we’ve hung out,” Taylor says— because it had and she felt like it needed to be addressed even if it had been her own doing. “I’ve missed you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the silence that follows her confession, the stupid fears rear back— what would she say if Karlie pressed her for the truth, said that she knew Taylor had been avoiding her, said that she knew why, said that she could just go fuck herself if that’s how she treats her friends. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What would she say if Karlie said that she didn’t miss Taylor, that she didn’t even want to be around her anymore, after New Year’s. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her mind swims with terrible possibility after terrible possibility, and she almost doesn’t believe it when she hears Karlie reply, “I’ve missed you too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And immediately, with just that, Taylor remembers the ease that they had together, and she can’t believe she had ever let herself forget.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What brings you out to the bleachers in <em>January</em>.” Taylor asks, as she sits down on the metal stands and immediately feels the cold leaching through her jeans. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, you know. I’ve had a few things on my mind lately.” Karlie says softly. She’s looking out at the empty, frosted field and Taylor almost has to strain to hear her. She feels far away, seems sad, and Taylor’s heart breaks just a little. She hopes, though she knows it’s a naive and probably impossible given that she’s basically <em>ghosted</em> her best friend actually, that it doesn’t have anything to do with her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It hits her again— how stupid she had been to let it go this long, how insignificant every fear and worry had been. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie’s tone changes suddenly, and she turns to look at Taylor with some of her old glint in her eye. “Anyways, I could say the same for you. Were you looking for me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, um… yeah.” Taylor sputters, and looking into Karlie’s eyes, she’s suddenly struggling to remember the reason why. Then, her brain manages to catch up. “Um, Winter Formal is coming up, and we have some planning to do. That is, if you still want to be involved?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She adds the question before she can think better of it, and she bites her lip to stop herself saying anything else. It’s the sort of qualifier she never would’ve thought to say two weeks ago, back when she and Karlie’s relationship existed on solid, sure ground. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course!” Karlie gushes back to her and if it sounds forced… well Taylor isn’t going to think about that. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your house or mine?” Taylor asks, like it’s old times. “Unless you have plans this afternoon?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Trig homework can wait.” Karlie says, rolling her eyes. “I’d much rather spend the afternoon solidifying the theme. I have, like, so many ideas.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor beams back at her then, and they walk back to the parking lot together. It feels good, it feels right, Taylor thinks, to feel her body next to Karlie again. She feels like she’s where she belongs. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They end up at Taylor’s place and take an armful of snacks up to Taylor's room. Laid out on her bed, next to Karlie, focused on her screen and on the planning document, Taylor can almost forget how much time has passed since the summer— can almost forget how much they've changed. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie’s family moved next-door in the middle of August. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Later, Taylor would wonder if her heart had been lost from that very moment, if she had already been somehow tied to Karlie, if she never even had a chance.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She remembers it all too clearly. She had watched the moving van pull up from her bedroom window and had seen Karlie step out onto the grass from the backseat of her parent’s car. Karlie had stood facing the house, holding her arms crossed in front of her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor was struck, immediately. It was hard not to be, really. Anyone would have been. Like, Karlie had obviously been folded into the back of the car for a long time— she was wearing a pair of leggings and an old tee, her short hair was pulled up into a lopsided pony— but she was blonde and tall, and more than anything, when she looked back at her parents and pulled out her airpods and <em>smiled</em>… well, she just shined. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> Taylor hadn’t thought much of it, at the time. She had watched the Karlie and her parents walk into the house and had gone back to watching Netflix. Still, the next day when Taylor’s mom had asked her if she wanted to bring over a loaf cake to welcome the new neighbours, Taylor hadn’t thought twice before saying yes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was used to getting dragged out of the house for things like this, but she could be reasonably counted on to at least complain. This time, she was notably quiet as she followed her mom out the door, lemon-blueberry cake in hand. She was, if she was honest with herself, excited to meet the new girl next-door. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think they have a daughter around your age, you know,” Her mother had said absentmindedly as they walked up the driveway. “Wouldn’t it be nice if you two got along. I know it’s annoying for you that Cara, Lily, and the others all live on the other side of town.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ugh Mom. Come on. Don’t get weird about it.” Taylor muttered, wondering how she could go back in time and stop the conversation from happening. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m just saying!” Her mom trilled as she reached for the bell. “Not trying to force anything, of course…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Of course</em>, Taylor had thought, mentally rolling her eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Inevitably— it would seem inevitable to her later— it was Karlie who answered. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor’s mom smiled and talked and Karlie yelled over her shoulder for her parents to come say hello and Taylor felt transfixed. She knew she should say something, but the words felt stuck in her throat. Karlie was just <em>gorgeous</em>, and Taylor felt almost trapped in her field.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She eventually brought herself to hand over the tupperware, smile, and say hello. Karlie’s parents came and talked to Taylor’s mom and Taylor just stood there, like an idiot, and tried to calm down. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had no idea what it was about the other girl that was making her nervous, but it was like her stomach was churning and her palms were damp. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She remembers hearing her mother say— and the words seem like they’re coming from far away, weirdly— “Oh Central High? That’s where Taylor goes. Isn’t that nice, Taylor? You and Karlie will be in the same class.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She smiled and nodded, but it was like she’s on autopilot. It was like she couldn’t get a grip on herself. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor always wondered if Karlie remembered too. If she looked up and saw Taylor in her window or if Karlie remembered what Taylor was wearing or if Karlie remembered when Taylor passed her the cake and their fingers brushed. She wonders if Karlie had known from that moment, the way somehow Taylor had.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because for all that she would try to tell herself later that it was an infatuation, a summer obsession, that she could always stop, something in her had always been telling the truth.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s birthday party was always one of the major events of the year.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His parents, probably because they were British, had always been the cool kind, who were happy to let kids run amok through their living room and who never asked what was in the punch bowl. It had became a legendary thing, even going back to middle school— stories of who had hooked up with who or of someone streaking through the suburban streets or of the time last year when the cops came and everyone ran.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">February needed Harry’s party, Taylor had always thought. When the glow and expectation of New Year’s faded— and this year, the glimmer hadn’t lasted long <em>at all</em>— you just needed something to distract you from the cold and the tests and the pressure. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They tell Karlie about it at lunch, the day before. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” she says, looking surprised but also a little delighted. “But I didn’t get an invitation. Are you sure it’s okay if I go?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gigi replies before Taylor can take her eyes off of Karlie’s dimples. “Of course, Kloss. It’s not an invitation thing— it’s just a fixture of the calendar year. Everyone goes. Honestly, it’d be weird if you didn’t show. Harry would be disappointed.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I mean, Harry is usually too drunk to remember who was there,” Joe cuts in. He’s next to Taylor, in his usual seat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But! He would miss you on the night— honest, Karlie,” Josh cuts in with a firm look of admonishment at Joe. “And if he had to turn to the bottle to drown his sorrows and ended up even more tanked than usual, how would what make you feel? Harry is not a kid who looks good puking into the bushes.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We know because it’s what ends up happening every year.” Abigail supplies drily, and everyone laughs.</span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">******</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s house isn’t far from Taylor’s, so on Friday night, she walks there herself. She had arranged it all with Joe and the others, said it was stupid for them to go out of their way to pick her up, said that she’d just meet them there at nine-ish, but it still feels a little lonely. She had thought, maybe, that Karlie would want to walk with her, but she had gone off with Josh after school and texted that she’d meet Taylor there.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor usually likes parties. She likes to dance and she likes to sing and she likes to jump around with her friends. She likes when people find quiet corners and break off into groups and when they talk about things that they never would at school. She likes seeing the things that will turn into stories first hand, likes being able to say she was there. She likes how, during the night, when everything is in full swing, their bodies feel alive in a different way.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor isn’t used to arriving at parties alone though, and it’s a vulnerable feeling she doesn’t like. When she lets herself in through the front door and doesn’t immediately spot her friends, she heads straight for the kitchen thinking that if she has to wait alone, she’s not going to wait sober. She downs a whole Solo cup of punch before she pulls out her phone and texts the group. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>where r u guys??</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s had most of another one before her phone buzzes with replies. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>coming!! sorry babe, the pre-gaming got out of hand</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>We’ll be there in ten!</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>u know you’re supposed to be fashionably late, why did you arrive on time??</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Gigi is right— it was predictable and Taylor should’ve gone to her house beforehand with Cara and Abigail and Lily. She’s starting to wonder if it would be ridiculous to leave and come back later when Harry walks in. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stops to say hello to a group of guys from the track team standing by the fridge before he sees Taylor, alone with the punch. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hellloooo gorgeous!” He trills over the music, and Taylor immediately feels better. It’s a difficult thing to explain to people, and she doesn’t think Joe has ever understood it, but even though Harry is her ex, he has a charm that never fails to make Taylor feel at ease. Tonight, as per usual, he’s wearing an outfit that should be a train wreck but that he manages to make look effortlessly cool— brown corduroy pants (flared) and an embroidered, pastel workwear jacket over a stripped jumper. His long hair is pushed back from his face by a pair of ridiculously unnecessary and obviously ornamental sunglasses. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Happy birthday!” She calls back, pulling him in for a one-armed hug. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I see you’ve already helped yourself to some refreshments— excellent. Would you care to join me on the dance floor? It’s lonely out there without your unparalleled moves.” Harry holds out his hand and Taylor takes it without another thought of disappearing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry is too fun to dance with— too fun in general— and Taylor loses track of time and songs and cups of punch too quickly. She can’t remember kicking off her heels but she can remember jumping barefoot on the carpet and when someone pulls her back into the kitchen to do a shot, the linoleum feels cold. The little glass that gets pushed into her hand is dark green and she doesn’t know what’s inside, but when she tips it back into her mouth, it tastes dark and smooth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s just about to head back into the dark living room to dance to whatever song is playing from Harry’s playlist when someone catches her arm. She spins quickly, <em>too quickly, jesus, bad idea</em>, and it’s Joe, who isn’t smiling. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Joe!” Her drunk brain decides not to notice that he looks stiff and unhappy and immediately pulls him in for a hug, “Finally! I’ve missed you! Do a shot! Harry has shots!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t have missed me that much, Taylor,” Joe replies. “I’ve been looking for you for ages! I’ve been texting and calling. I was worried about you!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, really? I didn’t get anything, Joe.” But when she fumbles her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans, she sees that it’s true. Five missed calls and dozens of unread messages. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I was dancing with Harry— I didn’t feel it buzz.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dancing with Harry? Yeah, right.” Joe says, with a raised eyebrow. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What is that supposed to mean?” Taylor asks, suddenly defensive. She’s suddenly wishing that she hadn’t accepted so many drinks. Her head feels slow. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s not do this here, Taylor,” Joe says, and he sounds so calm that Taylor just feels her frustration grow. “Let’s just have a nice night.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, actually, I want to know what the fuck you meant by that.” But people are starting to stare at them, breaking off awkwardly mid-conversation. She takes his hand and pulls him out onto the covered porch, where it’s cold and her feet are freezing and they can still hear the thumping of the music inside, but where at least they’re alone. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to fight with you.” Joe starts, but when he pauses and bites his lip, Taylor knows that he has more to say. “It’s just… I feel like your head is somewhere else right now. Somewhere that isn’t with me. Like, you didn’t want me to pick you up tonight and you’re never around at lunch anymore and it’s just like I hardly ever see you.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor mouth feels dry, and her heart is pounding. She’s trying not to think about how long it’s been since she had dinner, or about the shot that’s making it’s way way too quickly through her stomach. “Are you saying you want to break up?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, I don’t know. No. I’m just— I can’t be in this relationship by myself anymore. What do I even mean to you? Like, you’ve missed over half of my home games this year, Taylor.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She swallows, and she’s glad that she realises that she’s not about to cry. “Well, um… fine. Fine. I get it. Message received.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pushes back through the door, through the groups of people in the kitchen, and back to the dance floor. She finds Gigi and Abigail and Cara and Lily there at last and when Joe follows her a minute later, she avoids his eye. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s not much later, luckily, when the alarm on her phone goes off, warning her that it’s almost curfew, and this time she actually feels the persistent buzz. She finds her shoes and drinks some water and says goodbye to Harry. She’s just starting down the front stairs when she looks up and sees Karlie at the end of the drive. She’s wrapped in her coat and her scarf, face flushed against the cold, and she’s holding hands with Josh. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey” she calls, “Talk about arriving fashionably late. Where have you been?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie and Josh laugh together, like they have a secret, and Taylor doesn’t know why the sound of it puts her on edge. She can only blame the drinks and the fight and the cold.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Lost track of time,” Josh says and the smirk on his face makes Taylor feel sick. “I’ll go get us some drinks, yeah? You leaving Taylor?”<br/><br/>Josh makes sympathetic noises when Taylor tells him that it’s almost her curfew, but goes past her, into the house, leaving her alone with Karlie.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” Karlie says softly, “Are you okay? Do you want me to walk you home?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine,” Taylor spits out, and she’s surprised at the edge to her voice. “Sorry, I’m fine. I just maybe shouldn’t have had the shot Harry poured for me. And then Joe and I had a fight.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie seems to stiffen in front of her. “Oh… yeah? What did you fight about?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He said I wasn’t invested in our relationship or something. It was stupid. He was being stupid. He asked what he meant to me.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And what did you say?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I said… I don’t think I replied actually. Because he’s right, isn’t he? I’m a shit girlfriend.” The thoughts she had been trying to repress are starting to bubble up and her brain is too slow to catch up with them. It’s dangerous, Taylor knows. It’s a bad idea to be standing her in the cold with Karlie. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not true, come on,” Karlie starts, but Taylor doesn’t have time for it. <br/><br/>“Honestly, I do have to go. I’m fine, but my parents are expecting me back. You and Josh have a nice time!” And she pushes past her, out onto the sidewalk, before she says anything more.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s on the walk back that she realises. She could have told someone what Joe was to her and what Abigail was to her. It’s Karlie that exists in some worrying, unknown space. It’s Karlie. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Before she falls asleep that night, while her head is still spinning, she texts Joe. <em>You were right. I can’t be your girlfriend.</em></span>
</p><p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">******</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She tells her parents about the breakup over dinner a few days later, casually, when she’s halfway through a mouthful of mashed potato. She glances up to see that her mother’s looking at her, all concern. Her brother is suddenly focused on chasing peas around his plate. <br/><br/>“Oh, honey. I’m sorry to hear that,” her mom says, “I know he meant a lot to you, and you were together for so long.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s trying to console Taylor, and Taylor is shocked, a little, to realise that she doesn’t need it. <br/><br/>“No, it’s fine Mom, honestly. It’s whatever. We needed some space.” <br/><br/>“Well, maybe you two kids will find each other again, someday. Sometimes you just have to wait for when the moment is right.” <br/><br/>Taylor is willing her mom to stop talking— she knows that it’s never going to happen. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe,” she replies vaguely. Dinner isn’t the time to be fighting battles. Dinner is the time for safe topics, boring topics. “But right now I’m just trying to focus on school. The teachers are giving us loads of projects this semester. Dad, I was actually wondering if you might be able to help me with my Physics project this weekend? It’s the mouse-trap car thing, so I need to go to the hardware store.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">It’s the double whammy of safe topics— homework and weekend errands— and Taylor sits back in her chair a little smugly as the conversation veers away from dating. </span><br/><br/>She’s thankful, at least, that her friends accepted the news without question. </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Karlie and Josh break up, a week later, she hears the news from Gigi.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor knew that the thing with Karlie on New Year’s hasn't exactly come out of nowhere. Hell, her breakup with Joe hadn’t come out of nowhere either. And the…. undefined feelings that she had about Karlie since weren’t new. The thing with Karlie had been there from the beginning— or at least <em>something</em> had been. Like, even on the first day they had hung out.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor remembers that it had been the hottest day of the year so far, the doldrums of August, and she had been laid out on the floor of her bedroom, willing the sun to move faster through the sky. <em>It would be better</em>, she hoped, <em>when the sun set</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She had the windows thrown wide open, trying to tempt in a non-existent breeze, and outside, the world felt too silent. No sound of chirping birds, no sound of cars on the street, no sound of kids playing in their yards. <em>Everyone</em>, she remembers thinking<em>, must be hiding. Everyone must be trying very hard to not think about it.</em> Her cats, Meredith and Olivia, had the right idea, hiding in the cool basement. Or even her brother, who left the house early enough to avoid the peak of the heat and was probably out somewhere cool with his friends. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was sometime after noon, when she felt so hot that she was almost nauseous. It was all that she could do to keep remembering to sip from her water bottle. It was next to her on the carpet, and she remembers seeing the condensation, wet and dripping. It felt like a mockery. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because outside, the world was parched. Outside, the lush green of early summer had given way to a dying yellow, burnt at all the edges. Outside, the world was desperate and waiting. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor thinks that she had been desperate and waiting too. It had been the last weeks before school, before junior year, and she it was like she was on the edge of a beginning. Joe was away for the month with his family— too often out of signal range, so they couldn’t even message— and her other friends were inevitably at horse camp or dance camp or just lived fucking far away. It was like being in stasis, watching the time tick slowly over. She felt bored. She felt like she was just waiting for everything to come together.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she heard the sound of a door closing cut through the silent neighbourhood, her ears immediately perked up. It sounded like it was coming from next-door and she couldn’t repress her curiosity. She pulled herself to her feet and over to the window without even thinking about what she was doing. Without even stopping to realise who she was hoping to see. It was ridiculous to imagine now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her heart leapt a little when her suspicions were confirmed— it was the new girl. It was <em>Karlie</em>. She had been wearing flip flops and cut off denim shorts and her hair was pulled back into a messy bun. The sun made her blonde hair gleam, golden. Taylor watched her for a minute, wondering where she could possibly be going in the heat before she realised. Karlie was heading towards <em>her</em>. She was crossing her driveway and heading right for the Swifts’ garden gate. There was no other possibility. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor hurried downstairs and was in the front hall by the time the door rang. Moving so quickly in the scorching air hadn’t done wonders for how freaking sweaty she was, and she was sure that she looked a state when she opened the door. If it was any cooler, she might have been able to bring herself to care but right then, it was too much to hope for neat hair or a dry shirt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie, of course, was standing on her porch looking like a tall goddess, made for any kind of weather. She’s even taller than Taylor is, a little bit, and Taylor realised then how nice it was to feel normal next to another girl her age. All her other friends were a head below her, and she spent her life looking down. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey…” Taylor started awkwardly. “Karlie, right? How are you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hot.” Karlie said, “And bored. And um… I though I’d bring your Tupperware back? Not entirely magnanimously, because I also couldn’t stop wondering if your house had air conditioning? I know it’s a weird thing to ask and we don’t really know each other, but I was getting desperate in my bedroom and it’s just getting hotter.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor felt her words getting stuck in her throat and had to swallow several times in succession to try to get herself together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I tried taking a cold shower and everything, but it didn’t help for long.” Karlie said, when it became clear that Taylor’s brain wasn’t about to start working anytime soon. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, um, sorry. I don’t function well in the heat either. We, um, we don’t have air conditioning. Sorry.” She felt like it didn’t really need saying— she could feel her shirt sticking to her back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie looked sad even as she said, politely, “No, don’t be sorry. I’m sorry for the both of us! I just thought I’d check, is all. I’ll let you get back to…. whatever you were doing.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor thought about what she was doing— namely, nothing— and she thought about Karlie’s disappointed face, and she had a plan because she even knew it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The mall has air conditioning. It isn’t far from here. I could drive us— I have my license. I wouldn’t mind.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie’s eyes had lit up.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">******</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor couldn’t have explained it but with Karlie as a friend, August slipped away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She started expecting Karlie to call and had hoped for it. It wasn’t like she had <em>other plans</em> in August or anything, but she had, suddenly, been glad for the time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They went to the mall and they went to the movies and Taylor made sure that Karlie knew where the good coffee shop in town is. Karlie started coming over and they spent whole days on Taylor’s bed, watching crap on Netflix and laughing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It felt so easy. It came so quick. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In retrospect, it really shouldn’t have been a surprise when, late on a Thursday, Karlie asked her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were spread out on Taylor’s bed, side by side on their stomaches. The room was lit only by the flickering glow of Taylor’s laptop and by whatever reality tv show had been playing on Netflix. Taylor had lost track of time, lost track of the autoplay. She only knew that it was light when Karlie came over and now it was dark. She only knew that it’s easy to be here, even in silence. They had to lay close on Taylor’s narrow bed, and their arms had been pressed against each others for an age. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Karlie spoke, it felt sudden, out of nowhere, and had nothing to do with what’s playing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Will it be like this in September? When we’re at school and you have all your old friends back?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor didn’t even know what she meant, for a minute. She didn’t know what to say. She just blurted out, without any thought, “What do you mean, Kloss? Of course. You’re my friend, they’re my friends— you guys are going to love each other.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She tried to turn to face Karlie, rolling onto her side, but Taylor could only see the soft outline of her in the dark. Karlie’s eyes hadn’t left the screen. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good,” she eventually said, too softly against the competing noise of the show. Taylor had never been more frustrated by inane, scripted chatter and she could have thrown her laptop at her door to stop the noise. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie waited before continuing, biting her lip. “It’s just…. it’s been so easy these last few weeks. And I hate starting new schools. I guess I’m just a little nervous.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor tried to act natural, like Karlie was. She made herself focus back on the screen and did her best to sound normal when she said, “I’m sure. It’s normal to be worried. But honestly, my friends are great. I’ll look after you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Slowly then, she let her pinkie finger slide over and she caught Karlie’s hand. Taylor tried not to think about it, tried not to lose the nerve. It just felt right.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">******</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie hadn’t brought it up again until the last Sunday before school. Taylor hadn’t seen her all day— her mother had insisted that they had too much to do for the week ahead, books to find and clothes to wash and lunches to pack.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Most of the time, Taylor was an obedient kid. She looked after her brother and did her chores and did her homework and never kicked up a fuss. She must have looked outraged, though, when her mother told her to stop texting. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Mom</em>,” Taylor replied, trying to put as much contempt into her voice as possible. “I think you’re overthinking this whole back to school thing. I’m a junior. I’ve done it a million times. I’m ready, even Austin is ready. I’m just talking to Karlie.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor’s mom hummed a non-committal response, the kind mom’s everywhere love, before making it very clear that she hadn’t given Taylor’s argument a lick of consideration. “Still honey, I’d like this to be a family day.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor groaned in frustration and texted Karlie the next time she could. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>sorry for being MIA— mom is on some kind of family bonding warpath. can’t text. meet tonight? under the tree. i’ll sneak out.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie’s reply came almost immediately. <em>yeah, sounds good. let me know when you can escape. i want to see you before tomorrow x</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor tried to hide her smile and tried to wait. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t make it out of the house until after dessert and three rounds of Hearts. It had been almost impossible to stop herself from twitching with impatience all through the last game, trying resolutely not to check the time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Eventually, after an age, after enduring Austin’s attempt to shoot the moon <em>again</em>, she was finally allowed to leave the table. She was making all the right noises about a good night’s sleep, but as soon as she heard her parents go into their room, she was out the back door as quick as she could. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie was already waiting for her under the sycamore. Taylor could just about make out her outline in the dark. She was leaning on the old trunk, hands tucked in her pockets.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A big, stupid smile snuck across Taylor’s face and she didn’t even try to hide it. It had been an effort to not call out immediately. It had been an effort to remember that <em>stealth</em> was required, jesus. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instead, she waited to say anything at all until she was under the cover of the branches too, until she could pull Karlie around the back side of the trunk, out of sight of the house. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” she said, remembering to speak softly, “Sorry about today. Mom was honestly being a real drag. You think I’d never had a first day of school before.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s okay,” Karlie said with a smile, and Taylor remembers taking a minute to be grateful, again, for whatever had brought Karlie next-door. Karlie was standing in front of her, dressed in Levi’s and wrapped in a cardigan she borrowed from Taylor weeks ago, and part of Taylor was already wishing for more time. Part of her was already wishing that she could’ve had Karlie in her life from the start.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you feeling okay about tomorrow? I know it must suck, having to start a new school. But I’ll be there to make sure you don’t get lost.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie waited a second too long before reply. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, I think it’ll be fine. I mean, I’m used to it. School buildings are all the same, to be honest. It’s just— I wanted to ask. I mean, I wanted to say that… I’m just worried about meeting your friends, I guess. I’m worried that things will change. Between us.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor was trying to reassure her before she could even think about what Karlie meant, before she could even remember that they had had this conversation before. “It’ll be fine, I promise Karlie. Gigi and Abigail and Lily and Cara are going to love you as much as I do. Gigi especially— remember I told you that she’s on the cheer team and she’s already so excited for you to try out. Joe is really looking forward to meeting you too.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"><span class="s1">Karlie looked at her sharply, confused and Taylor’s heart was suddenly beating too fast. Her mind was whirling back; she didn’t know what she said.</span><br/><br/>Finally, Karlie asked, “Who’s Joe?” </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Joe’s my boyfriend— I’ve mentioned him before loads of time, Kloss.” Taylor didn’t know why her tongue suddenly felt too slow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor remembers the way Karlie’s voice had sounded when she replied, distant or hurt maybe or confused. “I mean, I don’t think you have. But… okay. I, um… Look, actually I’d better be getting back home.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor had nodded, stupidly, even though she knew Karlie would hardly be able to see her in the dark. “I can give you a ride in the morning, if you want? That way we can arrive together.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure, that would be nice. Text me?” Taylor could hear a smile in Karlie’s voice when she spoke, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something didn’t feel right.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t even wait for Taylor to reply before she crossed the lawn again, heading for the garden gate. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">******</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If Taylor was being honest, there had been something nice about August, about getting to know Karlie in, well, a bubble. With her other friends and Joe away for the summer, it had been easy. Everything with Karlie felt new and exciting— like they had a secret, like they had a freedom. They could find their own language, find an ease with each other that wouldn’t be examined or explained. No one had to know anything.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor had never, ever felt that way before, not even with Joe. She was used to fitting in, doing what whatever was expected of her. She hadn’t known anything else. To have Karlie, who <em>didn’t</em> know, who didn’t care….. well, Taylor had known that it would come to an end. Nothing lasted forever.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor hadn’t really worried about how they would transition into their new space until Karlie had started acting strangely, but it had kept her up all night. She lied to her mother over breakfast, telling her that she had slept well, but the truth was that she had tossed and turned, wondering what she had said to put Karlie off.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She could, obviously, had just <em>asked</em> her, but to be honest, Taylor knew she was never going to do that. It had felt safer to wait in her car at the end of Karlie’s driveway, and play the radio on the short drive, and just… act normal. From there, she had hoped, it would be easier. From there, she would know the rules again. From there, it would be easy to forget that anything had ever been wrong.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Abigail, Cara, and Lily were just as nice as she had promised, and Gigi had immediately started telling Karlie what to expect in cheer tryouts, and when Joe came over, he and Karlie both seemed like they were thrilled to meet each other at last. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They had all walked to homeroom, and when Joe grabbed her hand and started telling her about his family trip, she tried to ignore the feeling that something was wrong. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was easier, after a while. Karlie starting dating Josh from the track team and they talked about their classes and they talked about parties and they talked about running for the student social committee. They found a structure. They found…. Taylor didn’t like to think of it this way, but they had found some kind of distance. They had taken a step back from the unstructured summer heat, where nothing seemed to have consequence and nothing seemed to have drive. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But, and Taylor thought about this a lot, it was better too. With Karlie as a friend, everything was better. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After Harry’s party, Winter Formal comes around too fast.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hadn’t been lying when she told her parents that she was swamped with homework, and she almost can’t believe how easy it is to let herself get swept up in it all. She rushes from social council meetings to practice sessions with her history debate team to choir after school. Everyone is talking about college and SATs and she’s never had less time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s never felt easier to pack away her feelings for another day. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But the feelings are still there, of course. They come up whenever Taylor sees Joe in homeroom and remembers how she felt nothing when they fought. And Taylor’s reminded of them even more whenever she sees Karlie anywhere and feels, well, <em>everything</em>. It’s just that she doesn’t have <em>time</em> to do anything about them. Or at least, that’s what she tells herself.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s happy when the night of the dance finally comes around. It’ll be one thing off the list for a start and anyways, for all that she loves the dancing around, singing, jumping with her friends part of a party, she loves the setup part too. She loves the moment when everything is perfect and ready and waiting. She loves the moment of pause, when she can look around and see what she’s done. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She puts on her dress, puts her makeup bag in her purse and drives Karlie over to the school early, trying to just… act normal. Tomorrow, maybe, she would have the time to think. Tomorrow, maybe, she would be able to figure it out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Like, of course, there’s still a part of her that wants to just grab Karlie’s hand. She wishes that something could give her back the nerve she had in August, when it had seemed simple to just… reach out and <em>touch</em>, but the drive is too short and there’s too much to do and she doesn’t have <em>time</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Ms. Stewart gives them tasks almost as soon as they walk into the gym— streamers to hang and lights to set up. Harry arrives not long after to deal with the sound system and test his playlists, Taylor thinks that it will be easier. Things are usually easier when Harry is around— funnier and uncomplicated. It was one of the reasons she had dated him at all, eons ago. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But things go wrong as soon as he decides to test the sound system. He leans into the mic and says, sultry and stupid, “Here’s one for all the lovers out there.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then he plays… well, it couldn’t be worse.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s an old song Taylor doesn’t know, but the beat is slow and the lyrics couldn’t be easier to make out.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em> What would you think if I told you</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>I’ve always wanted to hold you?</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>I don't know what we're afraid of</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Nothing would change if we made love</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She holds her breath and tries to focus on laying out the cups on the drinks table. She holds her breath and tries not to look at Karlie. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s impossible though, not to wonder if Karlie is thinking about her too, to wonder if Karlie is <em>looking</em> at her. <br/><br/>When she lifts her head, finally, for just a glance, it seems inevitable that she would meet those sea-green eyes. She knew she would. It would almost be funny, really, expect for the stricken look on Karlie’s face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>So I'll be your friend</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>And I'll be your lover</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Well, I know in our heart we agree</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>We don't have to be one or the other</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie drops her streamers and is out the door a second later. And Taylor has no choice but to run after her, out of the gym and into the cold, clear night. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hears Ms. Stewart calling after her, faintly over the fucking music, which still hasn’t stopped, but she decides not listen. She knows what she’s going say, that they weren’t done setting up, they they have a strict deadline, but none of that matters. Suddenly, the time doesn’t seem so important. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She lets the double doors slam behind her, muffling the noise. Harry’s speakers cut through anyways, of course, and she curses that Harry picked <em>that song</em> . </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Karlie!” She calls and she adds a curse for the fact that all of this was happening during <em>winter fucking formal</em>. To think that they could’ve had this all out during Homecoming and saved several months of poor communication and hurt feelings and, just as importantly, they would’t have had to keep making up in the freezing cold.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie is more than worth it, Taylor knows, Karlie would be worth all this and more, but… she’s just glad that she hadn’t changed into her heels yet. She had done enough standing around with freezing feet during Harry’s party. She pulls her cardigan closer and it tugs on her sequinned dress. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie is getting too far away from her, moving too fast and Taylor is suddenly worried that she’s not going to have a chance to explain herself. That Karlie is going to leave and Taylor won’t be able to make it right. That things will be like they were in January again, and Taylor couldn’t stand that. She doesn’t know how she stood it then, how she did it to herself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All she knows now is what she wants, what she needs.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Karlie!” She yells again, and she curses at the cold wind that seems to carry her breath away before it gets anywhere at all. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Amazingly, though, Karlie seems to hear and she turns and Taylor’s heart leaps for just a second, before she sees her friends face, tear streaked and serious and sad. She can’t believe that she could’ve put that look there, that she could’ve caused that hurt, and she rushes forward caroused the iced pavement. Karlie waits. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Taylor is close enough, when she can’t possibility wait another second, she hears her own voice, sounding just a desperate as Karlie looks. <br/><br/>She’s close enough that her small voice will carry. “I don’t know what to say, but I’m ready to try.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie doesn’t react for what seems like a lifetime. It could’ve been minutes or seconds or hours. Taylor doesn’t know. She just knows that her heart seems to stop until Karlie, finally, finally, smiles again. <br/><br/>And then it’s like all the warmth has come back into the world. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She trusts herself enough to speak again and fumbles for the right words. “I just… I didn’t know that you saw me, like that. And… well, <em>fuck</em> Karlie. I’d do it differently, if I could, right from the first day you moved in next-door.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie smiles wider and Taylor feels her heart pound, like it’s up in her throat. “It feels like a long time ago,” she says softly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But also not so long,” Taylor replies. “I mean, I thought it from the first time I saw you— it’s like I’ve always known you. But… every time I look at you, you’re so fucking stunning, it’s like we’ve only just met.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She almost says, <em>it’s like you’re the sun</em>, but she stops herself just in time. Even if she is standing outside in a parking lot, wearing her party dress, confessing her love to her best friend, some things are still too cheesy to say out loud. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What would you say to me if you could go back?” Karlie asks, and Taylor thinks that she sounds a little scared too. “Imagine it’s August again. Imagine you’re on my doorstep.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor swallows hard and tries to speak with her heart, not her head. “I’d say… I’d say that I like you. I’d tell you that you’re in my head. I’d say that I dream about you at night. I’d say… I don’t want you like a best friend.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor suddenly can’t look away from Karlie’s mouth, her bright red lipstick. “Good,” Karlie’s saying, “Good. I don’t want you like a best friend either.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then they’re kissing— properly this time, not the chaste, closed-mouth brush from New Year’s. Taylor’s hand lands on Karlie’s back and feels herself getting pulled close, until their bodies are flush. It’s like they’re touching everywhere and Taylor’s head spins. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie’s fingers are fluttering on Taylor’s cheek, brushing the side of her mouth and her mouth is open. They go slowly and carefully, exploring and sinking deeper and Taylor’s head spins. She’s never been kissed like this before, ever, and she feels like she might just explode.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie tastes like spearmint gum she had been chewing in the car and her hand is in Taylor’s hair and Taylor knows she’s making noises, small and high-pitched and utterly breathless but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about anything but Karlie. She never wants to let go. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It feels like hours have passed when Karlie finally breaks away, breathless, eyes dark. Looking in her eyes, Taylor feels like she could just sink and drown and die right here. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The cold air is still whipping around them, but Taylor thinks that she’s never felt so warm. She can feel the flush in her cheeks and she’s sucking in the cold air in gulps, desperate to steady her spinning head. All she wants is Karlie, all she wants is to be kissing her again, tasting her, feeling her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She wishes more than anything that it <em>was</em> still August, that they weren’t standing in the middle of the freaking school parking lot, that Mrs. Stewart wasn’t going to come looking for them at any second. But Taylor doesn’t want to remember all the time that they wasted. Taylor only wants to think about <em>now</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie still has her hand in Taylor’s hair and she breathes quietly, “Fuck, Taylor. Fuck…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know, I wore this dress for you.” She says with a smile. “I know you like it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie laughs, a small breathy laugh, and smiles, still gulping for air herself. “Of course I do. How could I not? You look incredible in it— really you look fucking gorgeous in everything, but you were made for gold.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mrs. Stewart is probably going to come out here any second.” Taylor says, with no small amount of regret. “She didn’t seem happy with me when I ran out after you. I didn’t exactly tell her where I was going.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Karlie laughs again, harder this time. “No? You didn’t tell her that you needed a ten minute break to confess your love to your best friend?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I did not,” she replies, diplomatically. “And while I’m more than happy to have that conversation with her now, I do think we better get back inside before we get told off for ruining our own party.”<br/><br/>“All I want right now is to go back to your place,” Karlie says, her voice low. And for a beat, Taylor is ready to leave with her. She’s ready to forget the streamers and forget Ms. Stewart and she’s ready. She’s waited long enough. Then, Karlie sighs and breaks the moment. <br/><br/>“But I suppose we better go and finish setting up. After all, I have you now. We have each other.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Taylor meets her eyes and tries to tell her everything in that look. She is going to hold onto this. She isn’t going to let it go. “Well, in that case, I’m claiming every dance on your card. You’re mine all night.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m yours forever.” Karlie says and she takes Taylor’s hand. </span>
</p>
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